


Songbird

by potter_queen



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potter_queen/pseuds/potter_queen
Summary: Chuck and Blair are renewing their vows. A reflective piece on Chuck and Blair's relationship through the years.
Relationships: Chuck Bass/Blair Waldorf
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Songbird

Blair Waldorf’s first year of married life had been eventful, to say the least.

After being released from the police station and finding out Gossip Girl’s true identity, Chuck and Blair had climbed into the limo, turned to one another, and asked; what now?

They spent the next week in The Palace, not Chuck’s old rooms, but in the Honeymoon Suite. They drank champagne and hid between the covers, drunk on the feeling of being allowed to touch each other once again. Bart’s funeral came and passed. No one expected Chuck to attend this one. As Bart’s body was lowered into the ground, Blair took Chuck into her mouth and blew him softly and slowly until he was writhing in the sheets and crying out, salty tears leaking slowly from his eyes and into his hairline, her name falling from his lips like a prayer..

Eventually, real life forced its way into their room via a call from the police. Blair watched as Chuck’s eyes widened in response to whatever he was told over the phone. He began scrambling out of bed, abandoning Blair, who currently had whipped cream smeared over her nipples. 

“I’ll be right there,” Chuck had said and hung up. 

“Hey!” Blair had whined, gesturing down to herself petulantly. Chuck smirked and leaned over to wipe the cream away with two swift flicks of his tongue. Blair shivered and gasped softly; her body tingling from the aftershocks of her last orgasm. She sat up when she saw Chuck’s face grow serious again. “What is it?”

“The pilot,” Chuck said briskly. “He talked.”

_ “What? _ ” Blair jerked up to prop herself up on her elbows. Chuck had turned to head towards the bathroom, so Blair followed suit. 

“Called into the station with a case of cash and proof that there was only one parachute on board that jet. He confessed that he really had been planning on killing me -scared that Bart would kill  _ him _ if he didn’t- but of course he got cold feet last minute and landed the plane.” Chuck flicked on the water as he spoke. His eyes were wide and bright. His movements were animated.

“But that means-” Blair began, her mind whirring. She took Chuck’s proffered hand as she stepped into the shower behind him.

“We can get him for the others.”

“Oh my God.” Blair felt giddy. The false legacy Bart had left behind him, the facade of the perfect husband and loving father he had left behind would crumble. He would be exposed as the cold hearted, dangerous monster that he was. Chuck would be able to step into his role as head of Bass Industries with a clean slate, without Bart’s deception and brutality undermining his success. 

Chuck’s jaw was set, and he was examining a shampoo bottle. Blair eased it gently out of his hand. His eyes flicked to hers, and she could see in his eyes the anxiety he was feeling. She knew how much he wanted to leave it all behind him; his father’s manipulation and emotional abuse, the intense and confusing mess involving his mother, his struggle to be taken seriously as the Head of BI. She could feel his exhaustion. There was a part of him, she knew, that wanted to just ignore it all; to get away and leave it all behind. It was how he had coped as a child; always running, and again and again as he grew up; self medicating in Thailand, numbing it all so he didn’t have to think at all. He had nearly left for good once, with Eva, and thinking about it still frightened her. But he was so close now, and Blair knew that this time, he wouldn’t have to run. So she smiled. She stared at him; at the way his wet eyelashes stuck together, and how the crease between his eyebrows grew less pronounced as he let her silently soothe him.

Blair squeezed out a blob of shampoo and began to gently massage Chuck’s head. She pressed closer to him and let their wet lips brush together. “This is the beginning of the end, Chuck. There is nothing in our way now. Everything we have ever dreamed of is ours for the taking.”

Blair tilted Chuck’s head back gently to let the water sluice through his hair and wash away the shampoo she had just lathered there. Chuck’s eyes fluttered closed and he reached up to take Blair’s hands in his own. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Blair understood what he meant. It felt as though Chuck had been knocked down, again and again. Belittled. Manipulated. And yet, here he stood in front of her. Tall and proud, with his dignity still intact, despite his father’s valiant attempts to destroy it. Blair smiled to herself, and squeezed his hands gently.

“You inspire me, Chuck Bass,” she whispered. “Have I ever told you that?”

His eyes opened and found hers immediately. He shook his head minutely. Blair felt herself blush, but she wasn’t embarrassed. “You do. The world has tried to knock you down so many times. A lesser man would have crumbled. But you get up every time, Chuck. Even stronger than you were. And not just stronger, but  _ kinder, _ and more compassionate. I love you more and more each day. Admire you more and more each day. You’re incredible, Chuck. And this time, no one will knock you down. It’s your turn to fly, Chuck. One last leap.”

“One last leap,” Chuck echoed faintly. His dark eyes were wide, open and vulnerable like she had never seen them before. “You really think all that?”

Blair nodded slowly, taking his face gently in her hands. Her heart was hammering in her chest. It was all true; and that had once scared her, terrified her beyond belief. Now, voicing it to him was nothing but liberating. Chuck’s face broke into a wide smile. The type of smile that exuded the confidence and self-belief she loved so much.

“Well that, my dear, is all I need to know.” Chuck squeezed a dollop of shampoo into the palm of his hand and began lathering it into Blair’s hair. Her instinct told her to shut her eyes; protect them from the suds, but she could not take her eyes off Chuck. “Together,” he whispered, “we’ll take on the world.”

“I can’t wait,” Blair said breathlessly. On her own, she felt powerful. Here, with Chuck by her side, looking at her the way he did, she felt invincible. 

“Starting by going to the police station, and telling them everything we’ve learnt about my father’s fatal atrocities.”

“Their families will be able to know the truth. That’s the greatest gift you could give them, Chuck.”

Chuck smiled that shy smile that Blair loved so much. He bent his head to kiss her wet lips sweetly. Then he twisted her gently. She obliged, and he began smoothing conditioner into her ends. She tilted her head to allow him to kiss the nape of her neck gently. She loved this; a moment that could have been sexual but they chose to let it be simply loving. She felt adored in his arms. That feeling had never faded. She always felt like a queen in his arms; worshipped and respected.

The families of Bart Bass’ victims did find out the truth, thanks to Chuck. Manhattan learned the truth about Bart Bass when he was posthumously convicted of two first degree murders. Under Chuck, Bass Industries evolved into a more honest and fair organisation. Even Jack Bass, treated like an equal rather than a gormless lackey, thrived under Chuck’s management. 

After things had died down, Blair had demanded that they move into an actual apartment. She was tired of living in her childhood bedroom as a married woman, and as Chuck had never lived outside of a hotel room, she made it her mission to find them the perfect place to live. 

She found it, after a few months of scouting (with her minions spending their days trawling real estate sites). It was perfect; the Penthouse of a luxury apartment complex on the UES. The Master Bedroom was large and luxurious, with a closet the size of a stadium to accommodate Blair’s ever-growing collection of garments and accessories and Chuck’s multitude of designer suits.

Dorota, of course, had taken one of the bedrooms, and eventually, Henry had filled a second.

Blair had no regrets about her shotgun wedding five years ago. It fit them; spontaneous, dangerous, thrilling. She had worn Chuck’s ring around her neck for so long that when they finally came together, she didn’t want to wait another day to put it on her finger. 

She had had two nearly-perfect weddings. The first with Louis, when everything had been perfect except the man waiting at the altar. The second, with the perfect man but without anything else. Still, she had never realised how deeply she really wanted the perfect wedding until Serena had hers.

Sitting in the Van Der Woodsen summer house in the Hamptons, her heart had ached as she watched Serena’s face, bright and full of love, so perfectly sure of herself and free from worry. She had watched Serena make her vows and wondered what she would have said to Chuck had they had time to write vows. She watched Humphrey say his and wondered what Chuck would have said to her.

She had fretted for the rest of the wedding, wondering what to say to Chuck, wondering whether he would even be interested in a second wedding, due to the fact they had a son now, and were both so busy with work. She forgot, for an hour or two, the uncanny ability Chuck possessed to read her mind. They were sitting in the limo on the way home from the wedding, Henry asleep in Chuck’s lap, when he turned to her and said; “I think we should renew our vows.”

That was the beginning of it all. Delighted, Blair had set to work planning her third wedding, her one,  _ perfect _ wedding. She had it all this time; the flowers, the venue, the reception, and best of all; the love of her life.

They decided to do everything to the letter. Two days before the wedding, Chuck leaves to stay at The Empire with Nate. Nate has a Bachelor party planned, Blair knows, but she’s not worried. Chuck left his womanising bachelor days behind long before he married Blair the first time. A text from Nate shows her that it’s just the two of them, a steak dinner and a bottle of scotch. Her own hen party ends up being a night in with her son, Serena and her mother, watching Audrey Hepburn movies and reminiscing over old photo albums. Henry is delighted by every picture, especially if it features his father as a teenager. 

The morning of the wedding, Blair wakes before her alarm. She blinks slowly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the early morning light. Slowly, she stretches her hand out between the silky sheets. Her side of the bed is cold and empty. As usual, whenever she sleeps without Chuck, she has woken to find herself on Chuck’s side of the bed, surrounded by the rich, woody tones of his cologne and the musky, sweet scent of his sweat.

When Dorota comes into the room, laden with Blair’s breakfast tray, she is standing on the balcony, wrapped in a purple paisley print robe that does not belong to her. She likes to wear his robes when he’s not around, likes to feel as though he is with her, wrapped around her. She had laughed when they had first moved in together and she had discovered the true extent of his collection of silk robes. It was such a ridiculous thing to collect; they were so unnecessarily decadent and luxurious, but she had to admit, he pulled them off with aplomb. She will never tire of his face when he sees, after returning for a business trip away, his wife and son wrapped in his clothes. It’s a visual confirmation to him, she thinks, that they really do love and miss him, because sometimes words just aren’t enough.

There is a vase of peonies on her tray, fresh berries and whipped cream along with her usual breakfast. Blair gapes at it, then up at Dorota. This is not a typical addition.

“Mr Chuck gave strict instructions. He says wedding breakfast must be special,” Dorota says sagely. Blair blushes, but dips a strawberry in cream and pops it in her mouth. She hasn’t been able to eat whipped cream with a straight face in years; it often features in her sex life.

“What’s this?” Blair asks as Dorota places two small packages on her bed. “Let me guess, Mr Chuck again?”

“They arrive this morning,” Dorota shoots Blair a knowing look before starting to bustle around her room, opening curtains and picking up things Blair has discarded on the floor. Blair turns her attention to the first of the small packages, a black box with a black satin ribbon. Blair recognises the packaging immediately. It’s from their favourite lingerie store, Chuck’s go-to for mutually beneficial gifts. She eases open the ribbon and opens the box with a laugh. Inside there is a pair of blue, lace panties with a matching garter. She lets a scandalised Dorota inspect the garter as she reads the accompanying note;  _ Can’t wait to tear these off with my teeth later. Happy wedding day, ma cherie.  _

Hearing footsteps by the door, Blair hurriedly stashes the gifts under her pillow as Henry patters into the room. His eyes are half-shut with sleep, his hair is tousled, and in his hand is Perry, one of his many, many stuffed toys. Chuck spoiled his son, and often brought him back teddy bears from his trips away. Henry’s collection was excessive, especially since Henry refused to part with a single one, and Blair had said as much once. Chuck had admitted quietly that he had never had a teddy bear as a child, and that he had often wished his father might buy him one to keep him company while he was away; but he never had. Blair had not complained about a teddy bear again.

In all the ways that Bart had failed him, Chuck excelled as a father. He talked to Henry, encouraged him, supported him in his choices. Blair smiled to herself as she lifted Henry up onto the bed, him clad in purple gingham pyjamas, thinking about how Chuck had worn purple to distinguish himself from his father, whereas Henry wore it to be more like his.

Henry curled into her side, soft and pliant with sleep. She fed him berries until his mouth was stained red and he was truly awake, babbling to her about the dream he had, and the adventure Monkey had had while they slept.

“Can we see Daddy today?” Henry asked suddenly, gazing at Blair with wide eyes which were so like his fathers.

“Yes, baby,” Blair couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Daddy and I are getting married today.”

“You’re already married,” Henry pointed out smugly. “But you love each other so much you want to do it again. That’s what Daddy said.”

“Did he now?” Blair asked, pleased with Chuck’s explanation. Henry nodded seriously. To their son, Chuck’s word was sacred.

Dorota was busying herself by clearing away their breakfast things. She nudged the second package, which lay forgotten on the bed, towards Blair.

“Ah,” Blair picked up the package with a flourish, making Henry giggle. “It’s from Daddy. Who is it addressed to?”

Henry’s small fingers fumbled with the tag eagerly. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to work out the word. “It’s for me!”

Blair gasped in mock-surprise and allowed Henry to tear open the wrapping paper. Inside were a small black box and an accompanying card. Henry popped open the box enthusiastically and gasped at its contents. “Like Daddy’s!”

Blair peered over her son’s head to inspect the contents of the box. Lying on deep blue felt lay two child-sized cufflinks, made of gold and carefully engraved with the initials  _ HB. _

“They’re beautiful,” Blair commented sincerely as her son fingered the engraved initials reverently. “And they were made just for you. Read your card from Daddy, darling.”

Henry picked up the card obediently. He lay it down on his lap and placed the tip of his finger under the first word.

“Son,” Henry read, pronouncing the words with painstaking care, “Every man needs a set of cufflinks. No suit is complete without them. Love from your father!”

Blair beamed at Henry’s delighted face. In his excitement, he hugged her tightly before bouncing on the bed, still clutching his teddy bear. From the floor beside the bed, Monkey barked at the activity. 

“Can I try them on, Mommy?”

“Of course you can, my darling,” Blair responded, patting her lap to let Monkey jump onto the bed. Once, there had been a strict no-dogs-on-the-bed rule, but Blair had been forced to abolish it once she realised Chuck was more than willing to sleep on the couch just to be with his precious dog. 

Henry scrambled off the bed, laden by his note, his bear, his jewellery box and a peony he had extracted from the bunch on the breakfast tray. He was so much like his father in so many ways; they shared the same colouring and taste for the flamboyant, but in his mannerisms Henry reminded her so much of herself that it was unnerving. As he tilted his little head up and shouted “Dorota!” as he left the room, Blair had to suppress a giggle. It was true, Henry was perhaps even more spoilt than either of his parents had been at his age (which was quite a feat), but he had a genuinely happy family; parents who loved each other and the space at home to explore whoever he wanted to be, and that, Blair hoped, would make all the difference.

Blair spent a long time perched in her bed, sipping coffee and cuddling with Monkey while her son made a racket in the hall. She was finally roused by the arrival of her team; the best hair stylists and make up artists money could buy. She could just imagine Chuck now, sipping champagne in the hotel suite with a pedicurist at both feet while Nate watched on in bemusement. Blair smiled, then hopped out of bed to get ready.

~

  
  


Central Park was beautiful this time of year. It always was, really, but there was something so romantic about the park covered in snow that enticed Blair. There was a mystery in the cold air and leafless trees, a magical promise in the frozen lake and the way the frigid wind bit at her skin.

Central Park had been the playground of their youth. Blair remembered countless days, running and playing in the park with Chuck, Serena and Nate under the bored, watchful eye of one of their housekeepers. Serena and Nate like the park best in the warm weather, when they could throw off their jackets and roll around on the grass. They would tire of the snow after throwing a few cursory snowballs in favour of sweet hot chocolate by the fire inside.

It was only ever Chuck who would brave the cold with her. They would stay out, tramping through the snow, playing convoluted imaginary games when it was her turn to decide what to play, and running when it was his. He was always running as a child, chasing and fleeing from the things he wanted and the things he feared alike.

With the gift of hindsight, Blair could see that it had always been Chuck. Fate had brought them together a lot sooner than they had thought, and then knocked them around for twenty or so years to let them mature enough to finally, finally, come together. It had been Chuck, always, who was able to keep up with her, without having to try at all. It was only Chuck who played her made-up games the way she wanted them played. Nate and Serena always wanted to play Happy Families, to smile sweetly at each other and pretend to do the most boring things. They would dismiss her requests to play argue at tea, or turn their pretend shopping trip into a murderous mystery, but Chuck would play along. Even then, he had encouraged and rejoiced in the darker side of her that repelled the others. 

They were constantly at odds as children, and had never considered themselves friends. She had been Serena’s friend and Chuck had been Nate’s friend, and Serena and Nate were friends, so Chuck and Blair were forced together. They didn’t see it at the time, but really, they sought one another’s company more often than either of the others.

It was Blair who would continue Chuck’s running games long after the others had given up. She couldn’t always keep up, but she learnt all the best places to hide, the shortcuts to take, so that she could jump out at him and win the game. Contrary to himself, Chuck never seemed upset to be caught. In fact, he was more annoyed when he turned around to find he had outpaced all his friends.

They weren’t, perhaps, happy memories. After all, they had only played together because no one else would. There was no parent overseeing their games, only drivers or maids, but maybe that was what gave them the freedom to play their games the way they really wanted. Chuck would never let himself be caught by a girl in front of Chuck Bass, and tiny Blair Waldorf would never let her mother see her pretend to kill a room of strangers, a stick clutched in her hand like a sword.

It was self expression in a stifling world. They were not happy memories, but they were important memories, liberating memories, moments set apart from the rest of their childhoods of being told what to wear, and when to speak, and how to sit, and always,  _ always _ being quiet when the adults were talking, even when Blair had something really important to say.

They came to the park less and less as they grew up. Their running and imaginary games turned into gossip and schemes. They only met briefly; to discuss their friends or iron out a plan. Blair, in her Constance uniform and trademark headband, Chuck, collar turned up and designer scarf wound round his neck. 

In the light of day they could pretend that their relationship was merely a result of their respective friendships with Nate and Serena. In the dark, the lines often blurred. It was Chuck’s number that Blair found herself dialing when Serena disappeared. Sitting on the cold bathroom tiles after a purge, her thumb would hover over Nate’s number, but she never wanted to hear his simpering concerns and hollow positivity. It was Chuck she would call. “Everything is horrid,” she would say, her throat burning acidicly and her tongue thick in her mouth. “Distract me.” He was good at that. Distracting her. She never spoke to him about her eating disorder, but she suspected he knew anyway, via Nate or his own intuition. He would slip easily into a scandalous story he had heard about one of their classmates, and allow her to gasp in delighted horror at the ignominy. 

For his part, Chuck would never call her. But sometimes, he would smirk at her when he said something particularly clever in class. He would wink as he passed her where she sat, perched on the steps at Constance, or rake his eyes up and down her body when they crossed in the halls. It set her body alight, even though she would loudly act disgusted to her minions. She never demanded Nate’s attention during the school day, knowing that instead, he would spend the day trailing around after Chuck. Nate had plenty of friends; he was part of a dozen athletic teams and he was kind and friendly. She knew that people wondered why he bothered with Chuck, who was rude and acerbic, dressed flamboyantly and was more interested in drooling over freshman girls than he was in attempting conversation with any of the St Jude’s boys. Still, it made her uncomfortable to see him alone. Worse; without Nate as a buffer, Chuck would be surrounded by young girls, smiling up at him moronically and not noticing the ravenous look in his eyes. Blair preferred to see him with Nate. She never dwelled on the reason why.

It all felt so long ago now. All the fond memories, and all the hard ones too. The pain of him leaving her, over and over again. The pain and the shame of betrayal. The fighting and the competition, over things she had forgotten long ago. Back before Chuck’s smile felt like home, before his arms around her was her safety net, his hand in hers her anchor, his breath on her lips as necessary as the oxygen in her lungs. They had learnt, with great difficulty and heartache, how to be a team. The pieces had been falling into place for years, but it was on the day of their wedding that they had finally clicked. Dedicated to one another in mind, body and soul. From that day forth they were Chuck and Blair, husband and wife, the two of them against the world. Separately, they were formidable. Together, they were unstoppable.

Now, Central Park was where they took their son on weekends. When the weather was fine, they brought a picnic, prepared by Dorota, to eat by the lake. Henry, even at such a young age, was highly sociable, and often brought friends along for the fun. Blair would sit and watch Chuck teach them how to operate the toy boats for hire, or watch them kick a football between them. Eventually, Henry would begin a game with his friend (under Dorota’s watchful eye), and Chuck would sit down beside her again, leaning back to enjoy the sun and wrapping his arm around Blair’s shoulders when she lay down beside him. They had new memories here; endless summer days and Winter evenings spent walking the park, sometimes talking seriously about their lives, and other times just laughing together, Monkey’s lead wound round Chuck’s wrist.

It made perfect sense to get married here, now. Here, in the place they had conspired together, the place they had tasted freedom, where they had seen their own true selves. The partnership which had begun, all those years ago, here in the park would be commemorated here once again today. They had already had one wedding here, impromptu and in the sun. Now, they would exalt their love to the world in the weather that seemed to fit them the best, cold and biting, but full of promise. Full of magic.

She was wearing the most beautiful gown she had ever seen; a feathered Zuhair Murad princess gown. It hugged her waist and framed her collarbones daintily. On her feet were a pair of white, heeled boots. On her thigh, a blue lace garter. Around her shoulders was draped a fur stole, clasped in the front by a diamond brooch, gifted to her by Chuck many years ago. 

The rows of guests sat under numerous heaters overlooking the lake. In front of them all stood the groom and his best man, dressed exactly like his father and proudly sporting a pair of golden cufflinks. Cyrus, the officiant, stood rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and beaming around at the guests.

The first to walk the aisle were Serena and Nate, the Maid of Honour and the groom’s second groomsman. Nate looked handsome in his tuxedo and dark peacoat, Serena beautiful in her navy gown and dress coat. 

This time, Blair would walk the aisle alone. She was no ones to give away. She belonged to herself, and chose to dedicate herself to the man standing at the top of the aisle, facing away from her and waiting for the first bar of Songbird to play.

It begins, and Blair steps forward. She feels calm. 

_ For you, there’ll be no more crying. _

There hasn’t been, in their marriage. They have been blessed, with golden years to balm the pain of the ones that came before. Hard times will come, Blair knows, but with Chuck, everything will be alright.

_ And I feel that when I'm with you, _

_ It's alright, I know it's right _

_ To you, I'll give the world _

_ To you, I'll never be cold, _

As Chuck turns around, the sunlight falls on him from behind, lighting him up, framing him in golden light. For a moment, he looks magical, beautified by the sun and by her love for him. For a moment, she stands, frozen, locked in place by Chuck’s eyes when they meet hers. 

_ And the songbirds are singing, _

_ Like they know the score, _

_ And I love you, I love you, I love you, _

_ Like never before. _

Blair feels sixteen all over again, standing on stage at a burlesque club, with Chuck’s eyes on her, seeing her in exactly the way she’s always wanted to be seen. She thought, every day, that she had reached the limit of the emotion she could feel for Chuck, but each day it grew. She hoped it never stopped growing. 

Suddenly, Chuck smiled, wide and brilliant. It bubbled up inside her too; the rush of emotion. She wished for Chuck to have everything; to have so much love in his life it filled the holes his father had left in him. He filled all her empty spaces, lit up the dark places inside her and softly adored every part of her. She took a deep breath, and began to walk forward.

_ And I wish you all the love in the world, _

_ But most of all, I wish it from myself. _

When she reached him, he pulled her close to him immediately. He kissed her as the last chords of the song played, and his lips were ice cold from the snow and salty from the tears on his cheeks.

“You are magnificent, Blair Waldorf,” he whispered, “and I love you more and more each day.”

_ And the songbirds keep singing, _

_ Like they know the score, _

_ And I love you, I love you, I love you, _

_ Like never before, like never before. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I only watched Gossip Girl recently, and completely fell in love with Chuck and Blair. I really enjoyed writing this piece, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! Leave a comment if you did, so I don't feel like I'm shouting into the void. XOXO


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